


(If we don't die young) We might just live forever

by weethreequarter



Series: Live Forever [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoption, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Tony Stark, Ballet Dancer Tony Stark, Brainwashing, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Depression, F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Past Kidnapping, Red Room (Marvel), mention of self harm, minor past Tony Stark/Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 09:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18313289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weethreequarter/pseuds/weethreequarter
Summary: You roll through life like a rolling fire. I bring the rain like a thunderstorm. We found peace on a battlefield.In a world where Anthony Stark was killed as a child during a kidnapping gone wrong, Howard and Maria Stark adopted Natasha Romanoff from an orphanage in Russia to be their heir, while Anton Selesnick is raised in the Red Room as the Wolf Spider.





	(If we don't die young) We might just live forever

**Author's Note:**

> I can't even remember where this one came from. But I do know that once I started writing it, it was amazing how easy it is to swap Nat and Tony. A lot of their lines sound natural coming out of each other's mouths. 
> 
> There was one more small scene that I wrote which didn't fit in the finished story. But I love it, and it's a good scene between Steve and Tony, so I'll post it on my Tumblr later today, so if you're interested check it out.

Natasha wonders, can she get much lower?

She’s had a lot of low points in her life, but she’s pretty sure she’s never been this low. Last night she hurt Pepper and she hurt Rhodey, and they’ve been at her side since day one. She hates that, but it’s better this way, she thinks. It’s better to push them away now, so it hurts less when she’s gone for good. That palladium poisoning isn’t going away and she’s tried, she really tried, but she’s just not smart enough. Dad was right.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to exit the donut.”

Natasha raises her head.

Fury.

Of course it’s Fury. She considers ignoring him, but then decides what the hell.

Her head hurts, and now she’s thinking she should’ve stayed in the donut. She’s got the hangover from hell, she’s got palladium poisoning, and now she’s got Fury in her face. 

“Honestly, I’m not sure if you’re real, or if I’m having an hallucination,” she informs him. 

“I am very real. I am the realest person you are ever going to meet,” Fury interrupts. “That’s not looking too good,” he adds, pointing to her neck where Natasha knows the palladium poisoning must be showing. 

Damn it. 

“I’ve had worse,” she mutters and downs a gulp of coffee. She hears footsteps approach and assumes it is - finally - a waitress who can get her some fresh coffee and donuts. 

Wrong.

“We’ve secured the perimeter but I don’t think we should hold it for much longer,” a familiar voice announces. 

Natasha stares.

“Huh.”

And Fury smiles, because he’s a bastard and he knew, of course he did. And Tony stands there, in leather that fits in all the right places, revealing the biceps that took Happy down without a blink, with the smallest of smirks playing on his lips. 

“You’re fired,” she mutters.

“That’s not up to you,” he retorts and sits down next to Fury.

“Natasha, I’d like you to meet Agent Selesnick,” Fury says.

“I’m a SHIELD shadow,” Tony explains. “Once we knew you were ill, I was tasked to you by Director Fury.”

“Son of a bitch,” she swears. She should’ve seen this coming. Howard would kick her ass if he was here. 

“You’ve been very busy,” Fury continues. “You made your girl CEO, you’re giving away all your stuff. You let your friend fly off with your suit. Now, if I didn’t know better…”

“You don’t know better,” Natasha snaps. “I didn’t give it to him. He took it.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Fury exclaims. “He took it? You’re Iron Woman and he just took it? The little brother walked in there, kicked your ass, and took your suit? Is that possible?”

“According to Ms Stark’s database security guidelines, there are redundancies to prevent unauthorised usage,” Tony says and Natasha glowers at him. He smirks and it’s disarmingly similar to her dad. 

“What do you want from me?” she demands. 

Tony smirks again and Natasha wants nothing more than to swipe it off his smug little face.

X

Tony is nine and he is terrified. 

He’s been taken before, but never like this. He doesn’t know where he is, but he knows he’s far from home in a country that’s cold and surrounded by people who speak a strange language. There’s lots of girls here too. They glance at him curiously, but they don’t look too long. 

Tony wants to go home.

But if Tony’s learned anything in his short life, it’s that he doesn’t get what he wants. 

He learns Russian fast, because it’s the only language they talk to him in, and if he doesn’t understand, he can’t do what they want. If he doesn’t do what they want, then he gets hurt. So he learns, and he adapts, and he follows orders. And they teach him to fight, and they teach him to lie. Then they teach him to kill. 

But they also teach him to dance.

X

“Should’ve got paid upfront Banner,” Bruce mutters.

“You know for a man who’s supposed to be avoiding stress, you picked a hell of a place to settle.”

Bruce turns and finds himself looking at a man. The man in question sits casually, resting his chair on the back legs and his feet sit on the table. He appears calm, but the Other Guy growls in his ear and Bruce can see the man is ready for action. 

“Avoiding stress isn’t the secret,” he replies eventually. 

The man smirks. 

“Then what is it? Yoga?” 

“You brought me to the edge of the city,” Bruce realises. “Smart. I, uh, assume the whole place is surrounded?” 

“Just you and me,” the man promises.

“And your actress buddy, is she a spy too? Do they start that young?”

“I did,” the man replies and his smirk falls. 

“Who are you?” Bruce asks.

“Tony Selesnick.”

“Are you here to kill me Mr Selesnick?”

“No. No, of course not,” Tony replies, swinging his feet to the ground. He stands, pushing his hands into his pockets. “I’m here on behalf of SHIELD.”

“SHIELD. How did they find me?” Bruce asks. 

“We never lost you doctor,” Tony shrugs. “We’ve kept our distance, even helped keep some other interested parties off your scent.” 

“Why?” Bruce frowns. 

“Nick Fury seems to trust you. But now I need you to come in.” 

“What if I said no?” Bruce asks. He feels the prickle of fear on the back of his neck. He’s been running for so long, been on his own since before Ross and the Other Guy. He doesn’t trust anyone, not even the far too smooth Tony Selesnick. 

Tony smirks again.

“I’ll persuade you.”

And Bruce has no doubt that Tony could. Whether persuasion takes the form of seduction or sedation, or simple death, he has no doubt that Tony wouldn’t blink an eye at any of it. 

“And what if the Other Guy says no?”

“You’ve been more than a year without an incident. I don’t think you want to break that streak now.” 

Bruce’s eye catches on the cradle. He can’t stop his fingers from drifting over it, and Tony’s sharp eyes take everything in. 

“I don’t always get what I want.”

“Doctor, we’re facing a potential global catastrophe,” Tony tells him. 

“Well, those I actively try to avoid,” Bruce replies. 

Tony pulls a phone from his pocket and shows Bruce a picture of a glowing blue cube.

“This is the tesseract,” he explains. “It has the potential energy to wipe out the entire planet.” 

“What does Fury want me to do? Swallow it?”

Tony laughs, and Bruce thinks absently that Tony looks younger when he laughs. 

“He wants you to find it,” Tony says. “It’s been taken. It omits gamma radiation that’s too weak for us to trace. There’s no one knows gamma radiation like you do. If there was, that’s where I’d be.” 

“So Fury isn’t after the monster?” Bruce asks. The suspicion is growing. He doesn’t trust SHIELD. They’re too close to Ross. 

“Not that he’s told me,” Tony shrugs. 

“And he tells you everything?” 

“Talk to Fury,” Tony insists. “He needs you on this.” He sounds surprisingly earnest, as if he really is on Bruce’s side in all of this. Of course, a spy like Tony obviously is is probably practised in making his marks think that.

“He needs me in a cage?” Bruce suggests. 

“No one’s gonna put you in-“

“Stop lying to me!” he yells. 

And Tony just _stands_ there. Hands in his pockets, an eyebrow cocked, and the hint of yet another smirk playing around his lips. The man is unflappable. 

“I’m sorry, that was mean,” Bruce apologises. “I just wanted to see what you’d do.” 

Tony grins.

“Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled,” he declares. Then he leans forward. “And I’m a huge fan of the way you turn into a giant green rage monster.”

X

Natasha doesn’t really remember her life before.

She knows she was born in Russia, and she has a few indistinct memories that she assumes belong there, but there’s nothing solid. 

She knows her parents are dead and she knows their name was Romanoff and that until Howard Stark plucked her out of an orphanage it was her name too.

She also knows, although most of the world has forgotten, that she wasn’t the first Stark child. There was a son, a boy, older than her who was kidnapped and killed. And Natasha wonders, even now when Howard and Maria are dead, if the boy had lived, would they still have adopted her? Would they still have needed her? Because that is what she was to Howard: a tool, not a child. He needed an heir, and he saw something in her that he liked and plucked her from obscurity and threw her into the circus that is the Stark family. 

And she came out swinging. Most days.

(And let’s just not mention the other things she came out with. Like a crippling lack of self worth. Or the alcoholism. Or the depression. Or the self harm. Or the confusing mix of feelings towards both Howard and Maria that include hatred and love and anger and a painful side of knowledge that they were gone too soon. She never mentions those)

X

Tony dances.

He dances until his feet bleed, and then he keeps on dancing. Because dancing is the only thing that makes it bearable. Any of it. All of it. So he dances.

After the classes have finished, he’ll take his shoes and he’ll dance for hours. They don’t stop him, unless it impacts his performance in other, more important areas.

(Like killing)

They figure out early on that Tony has too much energy and too much brain power, and if expending some of that energy in dance means he kills quicker, faster, better, then they let him dance. 

Tony pulls on his shoes and, in just a pair of hard wool trousers, he dances. He notices the moment he’s no longer alone, but he doesn’t stop. He just keeps dancing. It feels like flying, and Tony wants to fly. He dances and imagines he’s flying, flying away from here, away from the death, away from the killing. He thinks he’d like to fly, if only he could. 

When he stops, he looks at his observer. He knows who he is, of course. He’s trained Tony like he’s trained the girls in the past few weeks. And Tony remembers seeing him before, years ago, yet he looks exactly the same. He used to wonder about that. Now, he knows so much more about what they do here and now he doesn’t wonder. Not because he knows. Because he doesn’t want to. He holds Tony’s gaze firm, until finally Tony raises a single eyebrow. 

An unspoken invitation. Or a challenge.

Either way he accepts.

He strips off the jacket and boots as he walks, leaving him in bare feet and leather trousers. 

And together they dance. 

X

“Agent Selesnick, Captain Rogers,” Coulson greets their welcome party.

“Hi,” Agent Selesnick nods then turns to Coulson. “He needs you on the bridge. We’re starting face trace.”

“See you there,” Coulson replies, then he leaves Steve with Agent Selesnick. 

It’s weird, because Selesnick looks like Howard. Just a little. But enough that Steve almost asks if they’re related. But he knows that Howard has only one child now - a daughter, adopted - and that his only son died in a kidnapping gone wrong. He doesn’t know the details. He isn’t sure he wants too. Everything is still too new, too raw, and the last thing he wants is to make it worse. 

“So what’s your thing?” Selesnick asks. “Pilates?”

“What?” Steve frowns.

“Pilates. It’s like calisthenics. You may have missed a few things,” Selesnick shrugs. They walk across the deck. Selesnick takes the lead. “There was quite the buzz about finding you in the ice. I thought Coulson was going to swoon,” he continues. “Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?”

“Trading cards?” Steve echoes. He’s not sure whether he’s amused or sick at the thought. 

“They’re vintage. He’s very proud,” Selesnick rolls his eyes. 

Then Steve notices that there is a purpose to their journey. They’re headed for a man, clearly a civilian, who looks nervously at the obvious military power on display. And then Steve recognises him from the files Coulson gave him on the jet.

“Doctor Banner,” he calls, getting the man’s attention. Out of the corner or his eye, he sees Selesnick smile a little and wonders if this means they’ve met. 

“Oh, yeah, hi. They told me you’d be coming,” Banner says as he shakes Steve’s hand. 

“Word is you’re the man that can find the cube,” Steve says.

“Is that the only word on me?” Banner asks, a quick glance around.

“The only word I care about,” Steve replies. And Banner looks mildly comforted, but out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Selesnick’s small smile, even as the man clearly listens to a voice in his earpiece. The smile is proud, like Steve just passed some sort of test. 

“Must be strange for you, all of this,” Banner says, and Steve is grateful for the olive branch. 

“This is actually kind of familiar,” Steve admits. In a world that seems more alien than the actual aliens, war and soldiers never change. Not really. For a few, brief moments, Steve can pretend he’s not a man out of time.

“Gentlemen,” Selesnick calls, “We may want to step inside in a minute. It’s going to get a little hard to breathe,” he grins. 

Steve frowns, and Banner with him. They hear mechanical whirring and an announcement to _Secure the deck_. 

“Is this a submarine?” Steve asks in wonder. Which, he thinks, may just be the coolest thing ever. Although by his expression, Banner doesn’t share the sentiment.

“Really? They want me in a submerged, pressurised, metal container?” 

Selesnick smirks but stands back as Steve and Banner walk to the edge of the deck. And that’s when Steve realises that they aren’t going down, but the opposite. They’re going to _fly_. 

“No, no, this is much worse,” Banner comments, and Selesnick barks a laugh. 

It might not be the flying car he was promised, but Steve thinks he’ll take it.

X

Tony wakes from sleep like _that_. 

But he waits a further five seconds before opening his eyes. He uses those seconds to engage his other senses and discover what, or who, woke him. He realises immediately, recognising the silent presence by his bedside. He opens his eyes and they instantly find Yasha’s in the dark. 

“Come with me,” Yasha whispers. 

Tony pulls the key from under his mattress and unlocks the handcuffs tying his left wrist to the bed frame. Then, silently with bare feet, he follows Yasha through the shadows, up stairs and along corridors, until they come to the room that they found. Yasha turns to close the door, and the second the latch clicks, Tony crowds him against it. 

Yasha’s hands fall to his waist, the right warm and human, the left cold and metal. Their mouths moves together, hunger no less present due to familiarity. Tony fists his hands in Yasha’s hair and presses closer. He loves this man, not that they ever say it. Saying it aloud could be dangerous. Instead, Tony tries to pour it into the way he cups his hand to Yasha’s face, or kisses his temple.

They stumble back towards the bed, falling in a mass of limbs and wet, open-mouthed kisses. Tony wants to giggle and isn’t that just ridiculous. Instead he grins, open and wide. And to his surprise, after a blink, Yasha smiles back. Yasha rarely smiles, but every time he does, the years and the lines melt off of his face. And then Tony has to kiss him again, fiercer and harder, because he’s smart, and he may not know everything about Yasha, but he can work out enough to realise why Yasha never looks any older or what, exactly, gave him the lines across his face.

They move together and it’s as blinding as it was the first time, and Tony thinks to himself _This is how it’s supposed to feel_. He wants these moments with Yasha never to end.

He knows they will.

He kids himself they won’t.

They lie together, a sweaty tangle of limbs. Tony carefully picks strand of hair off of Yasha’s face, slowly working his fingers through them to remove the knots, and pressing soft kisses to the underside of his jaw. Some of the knots are so tight that no amount of work will ever unravel them. And that makes Tony wonder what Yasha would look like with shorter hair. Younger, perhaps. But not like his Yasha. Meanwhile Yasha gazes at him with a reverence that Tony isn’t sure he deserves, as though Yasha is afraid to blink, as if Tony will disappear if he does.

Tony has no intention of going anywhere.

The words bubble up in his throat but Tony clamps them down. No. He can’t. Saying things aloud makes them real. He doesn’t want this to be real. If it’s real, it can be taken away from him. And Tony thinks, _please. Just give me this_. 

They fall asleep like that, and that’s their first mistake.

They wake when the door bangs open and the room is flooded with people. They grab Tony and Yasha and drag them out of bed. Tony can see Yasha fighting like he’s wild, so he does the same thing. Suddenly, the urge to leave - which he hasn’t allowed himself to feel in ten years - is overwhelming and he thinks if only they can get free long enough to run, the two of them could run together and go anywhere. They could find a place, far, far away and just be happy together. 

But then stronger hands clamp down on him and he sees other hands dragging Yasha out of the room and Tony realises it’s futile.

They are dragged downstairs, down to the basement where the graduation ceremonies are carried out and Tony experiences a sick swoop to the stomach. But they are dragged past those doors and into another, one that no one to Tony’s knowledge has ever entered.

They drag Yasha in first, then Tony, just in time for him to see them clamp the restraints onto Yasha’s wrists, tying them to the arms of the chair. Tony stares in horror. Yasha fights and snarls, snapping with his teeth even as he loses the use of his limbs.

“ _Wipe him_ ,” comes the order.

And something clamps onto Yasha’s head, and Tony flinches because it looks painful. But worse than that, Yasha freezes. Then he finds Tony’s eyes and, oh. This is bad. Tony’s throat closes as he and Yasha stare at each other. It’s crazy, but Tony would swear that Yasha is trying to burn Tony’s face into his mind. 

Then the machine begins to whir.

Yasha’s eyes snap shut.

He throws his head back.

And he _screams_.

He screams and he screams and he screams.

And Tony’s mouths open in his own silent scream.

Finally the machine dies. It lifts off of Yasha’s head. 

“Longing.

“Rusted.

“Seventeen.

“Daybreak.

“Furnace.

“Nine.

“Benign.

“Homecoming.

“One.

“Freight car. Soldat?”

Yasha’s eyes snap open. But they are blank. They don’t see Tony, and if they do, there is no recognition.

“Ready to comply.”

And Tony realises that he should have said it, because now he will never get another chance. Because his worst suspicions have been confirmed.

His face is wet, he realises, as they drag him away. Surely he should’ve realised when he started crying? 

_I love you._

A week later, he graduates.

X

“Birdbrain. You’re going to be alright. Unfortunately.”

“Fuck you, Selesnick,” Clint gasps.

Tony snickers from his chair, but he does retrieve a glass of water and holds it steady so Clint can drink. Which is a measure of how serious this is. Last time Coulson was in hospital, Tony held a cup for him and purposely slopped water all over Coulson’s pants. 

“I’ve got no window. I’ve got to flush him out,” Clint mutters

“You’ve gotta level out,” Tony corrects. “It’s gonna take time. Especially for you.”

“Asshole,” Clint spits, finding comfort in their familiar banter. “You don’t understand. Have you ever had someone take your brain and play? Pull you out and stuff something else in? Do you know what it’s like to be unmade?”

Tony freezes.

“You know I do,” he replies. 

Suddenly Clint realises he’s alone in his head for the first time since that damn portal opened and Loki appeared with his sparkly stick.

“Why am I back? How did you get him out?” he frowns.

“Cognitive recalibration,” Tony replies. “I hit you really hard on the head.”

“That answers my next question of why does my head hurt,” Clint realises. “Thanks.”

Tony looks at him in surprise, and then suspicion.

“Stop being nice,” he snaps. “I think I preferred you possessed to nice. It’s unnatural.”

“Go fuck yourself with a cactus.”

“Now that’s more like it,” Tony smirks. He reaches across and unbuckles the restraints.

“Tony,” Clint begins, “How many agents did I-“

“Don’t,” Tony interrupts, his face inches from Clint’s, and Clint is suddenly reminded of why he thought it was a good idea to fall into bed with Tony back when they met. It was one time, and it was fun - no, actually, it was amazing - but there are too many layers to Tony. Too many fences and barriers, and Clint doubts anyone is ever allowed to see the real Tony anymore. Besides, he has a wife. “Don’t do that to yourself, Clint. This is Loki. This is… monsters and magic, and nothing we were ever trained for.”

“You mean they didn’t train you to fight Baba Yaga?” Clint teases.

“No, she was our ballet instructor,” Tony retorts. 

“Loki, did he get away?”

“Yeah. I don’t suppose you know where?”

Clint shakes his head.

“I didn’t need to know. I didn’t ask.”

And he sorely regrets that now. 

“He’s going to make his play soon though,” he continues under Tony’s too knowing gaze. Clint’s always wondered if that was trained into him, or if he was born with it. Either way, it’s disconcerting, even to Clint, and they’ve known each other for years. “Today.”

“We’ve gotta stop him,” Tony declares.

“Yeah? Who’s we?” Clint scoffs.

“Whoever’s left,” Tony spits with the fire that he rarely shows, but Clint knows is always burning, always there. He knows that fire belongs to one man, and festers on a hatred of the people who took him away.

“Well,” Clint says, “If I put an arrow through Loki’s eye socket, I would sleep better, I suppose.”

Tony rolls his eyes.

“Now you sound like you.”

“But you don’t.”

Tony sighs and sits next to Clint on the bed. Tony’s age is weirdly indiscernible. Some days he seems eternally youthful; others, he looks older than Fury. Clint’s seen his file and the date of birth in there, but he’s never sure of its authenticity. 

“You’re a spy. Not a soldier,” Clint continues. “Now you want to wade into a war. Why? What did Loki do to you?”

“He didn’t, I just…” Tony frowns. His hands turn into fists and Clint can see the red marks where his nails bite into his palms. 

“Tony…”

“I’ve been compromised. I got red in my ledger,” Tony states. “I’d like to wipe it out.”

X

Tony knows he’s an agent from the moment he sees him. 

But he still takes him to bed.

In his training, sex is just another tool in an extensive kit. And Tony is damn good with that particular tool. 

(Pun intended)

So he takes “Louis” back to a hotel room, shows him a mind blowing time, then - while Louis sleeps off his earth shattering orgasm (because, yeah, Tony is that good) - Tony picks his pockets and disappears into the night. He’s pretty sure he’ll see Louis again sometime, but it’ll be a while.

“Running off like that without saying goodbye? Well, that’s just rude.”

 _Son of a bitch_.

He hadn’t even made it two hours.

“Were you even asleep?” Tony asks, narrowing his eyes at Louis, who lounges against a wall with - is that a fucking bow and arrow?

“No. It wasn’t that good,” Louis scoffs.

“Liar,” Tony smirks.

He is that good.

“Who are you?” Tony asks. He doubts he’ll get a straight answer, but he can keep Louis talking long enough, distract him, maybe make out a little, and Tony can be on his way. He really doesn’t want to have to slip a knife between Louis’ ribs, but he will if he has to. He likes Louis. Not in a romance way, not even in a sex way - although the sex was good - but in the way where assholery recognises itself in another person. He thinks that in another world, he and Louis could be friends.

In another world, maybe they are.

“Clint Barton. I’m with SHIELD,” Louis replies. Louis - or Clint - pushes himself off of the wall, strolling towards Tony. But Tony watches him with trained eyes; he can see that Clint is ready to attack at any time. He likes it. 

“What does SHIELD want with me?” Tony asks. As if he didn’t know. He knows exactly what - and who - put him on SHIELD’s radar.

“Well, technically, my orders were to kill you,” Clint says. And Tony’s heart seizes for a moment. It’s been a while since he’s had to kill someone he genuinely likes, but it won’t be the first time. “Technically,” Clint repeats. 

“Technically,” Tony echoes.

“I mean, unless you were to offer me something in return,” Clint continues, and this time, Tony is reaching for the knife. Because he refuses to be someone’s bitch again. It’s bad enough that he’s used as a tool and a weapon. He refuses to be someone’s fucktoy. 

“Jesus, no!” Clint exclaims. He looks horrified. “Fuck, man. I meant unless you came back with me and gave us information.”

“In exchange for what?” Tony spits.

“You could join SHIELD,” Clint suggests, and Tony barks a laugh. 

“Become SHIELD’s murderer instead of Russia’s?” he snarls. 

“You could. If you wanted,” Clint shrugs. “Or not. Talk to my boss. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I end up dead,” Tony states.

“Well, apart from that?”

Then Tony decides, what the hell? He’s been dead inside for years.

It’s not until later, much later, when he meets Clint’s superior, a flint hard woman with eyes of ice who has a crushing handshake - and the same scars on her left wrist from the handcuffs as Tony himself does - that he gets it. 

And he thinks maybe, just maybe, he could make this work. 

X

So this is Captain America.

This is the man Howard was obsessed with. This is the one she was held up to and found lacking. Natasha wants to hate him, but she find she can’t. Captain America is righteous fury and an unwavering moral compass. But Steve Rogers is lost and alone and barely keeping his head above water.

Still, they fight. 

Fighting is the only way Natasha knows. 

Then Loki attacks, and suddenly she and Steve are working together, and then the helicarrier is no longer falling out of the sky (Go team). But then Fury’s voice comes over the PA and says that Coulson is dead. And Natasha’s heart freezes. 

She likes (liked) Coulson. Okay, yeah, he threatened to taser her once, and Natasha talked down to him all the time. But at the end of the day, he treats (treated) her like a real person, like an individual. Like Natasha, not Howard Stark’s daughter. Not the genus, billionaire, playgirl, philanthropist she claims to be to Steve. 

Not many people do that. 

“Was he married?” Steve asks.

Natasha stares down at the space where the Hulk Cage formerly was.

“No,” she replies. “There was a cellist. I think,” she adds, as if she hadn’t offered to fly Coulson to Portland to visit his girl just hours ago. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says. “He seemed like a good man.”

And Natasha can’t hold back.

“He was an idiot,” she snaps. 

“Why? For believing?” he challenges.

“For taking on Loki alone,” she replies. 

“He was doing his job.”

“He was out of his league. He should have waited,” Natasha insisted. “He should have…”

Her throat closed.

“Sometimes there isn’t a way out, Natasha,” Steve says, and her blood burns. She _hates_ being spoken down to, has done ever since she was a child and Howard did it to her. For not being born a genius like him and like his son. For not being good enough. For not seeing the answer when it was _right there_ , Natasha. Besides, they said the same thing about the cave in Afghanistan, yet here she is.

(But they aren’t all here)

“Right. I’ve heard that before,” she retorts. 

“Is this the first time you lost a soldier?” Steve asks. 

_“Is it cool if I take a picture with you?”_

_“Yes. It’s very cool. I don’t wanna see this on your MySpace page. Please, no gang signs. No, throw it up. I’m kidding. Yeah, peace. I love peace. I’d be out of a job for peace.”_

“We are not soldiers!” she snaps, her voice echoing in the metal room. And instantly Natasha regret it. She showed her hand, she let him know he’d struck a nerve.

_Stupid girl._

Shut up Howard.

“Who did you lose?” Steve asks.

She clenches her jaw and raises her chin. 

“I’m not interested in marching into battle on Fury’s tune,” she says instead.

“Neither am I,” Steve replies. “He’s got the same blood on his hands that Loki does. But right now we gotta put that behind us and get this done.”

Natasha stares at the blood where Coulson fell. 

“He needs a power source,” she states.

“If we put together a list-“

“He made this personal,” she interrupts. 

“That’s not the point,” Steve insists.

“That is the point,” Natasha corrects. “That’s Loki’s point. He hit us all right where we live. Why?”

“To tear us apart.” 

“Divide and conquer is great, but to win, he knows he has to take us out,” she realises. “That’s what he wants. He wants to beat us and be seen doing it. He wants an audience.”

(Fuck, Loki’s a little bit like Howard)

“Right, I caught his act in Stuttgart,” Steve nods. 

“That was the previews, and now we’re in opening night,” Natasha continues. “And Loki. Oh, Loki’s a full tilt diva. He wants flower, parades, a monument built to the skies with his name plastered-“

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Steve raises an eyebrow.

“Son of a bitch,” she exclaims.

X

Thor pulls off the faceplate, tossing it aside, and Steve’s heart seizes when he sees Natasha’s eyes closed, her face slack and unmoving. He learns down, trying to hear a heartbeat through the suit, hoping to feel her breath against his face, because he cannot lose another person. Not now, not so soon. Coulson, he could survive because he barely spoke to the man. But Natasha…

He likes Natasha. Sure, they fought, but he likes her. 

Nothing. Steve sits back on his heels and feels the adrenalin fade away. 

And then the Hulk screams.

And Natasha jerks awake.

“What the hell?” she gasps. “What just happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me.”

But Steve notices her eyes linger on him. He doesn’t have the energy, the brainpower, nor the emotional capacity to deal with that observation however. 

“We won,” he states.

“Alright. Yay,” Natasha groans. “Alright, good job guys. Let’s just not come in tomorrow. Let’s just take a day.”

Steve grins.

“Have you ever tried shawarma?” she asks. “There’s a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don’t know what it is, but I wanna try it.”

“We’re not finished yet,” Thor says, and that’s when Steve remembers they have a demigod to wrangle. 

“And then shawarma after?” Natasha asks.

X

When she limps back into the tower six months later, Steve is waiting. He fusses over her injuries, and swears that next time he’ll be quicker to gather the team and come help her. He’s exasperated by The Mandarin, and furious at Aldrich Killian, and smirks when she tells him how Pepper fried Killian. 

And Natasha looks into Steve Rogers eyes and thinks, _Damn_.

X

Tony stares at the drive in the vending machine and rolls his eyes. Then he digs the change out of his pocket.

“This better be worth it, Rogers,” he mutters, feeding the coins into the machine. He pockets packet after packet of gum until finally the drive falls down. Tony gives the gum to a nurse to take to the kids’ ward, then waits for Steve to return for the drive. 

Which is how he ends up being shoved against a wall by Steve Rogers.

“Okay, if we’re doing this, my safe word is pineapples,” Tony informs him and receives a scowl in return. 

“Where is it?” Steve snaps.

“Safe. Jesus Christ Rogers, was that the best you could do? A vending machine? Where did you get it anyway?”

As if he doesn’t know.

“Why would Fury give it to you?” he presses.

“What’s on it?” Steve demands.

“I don’t know.”

“Stop lying!”

“I only act like I know everything,” Tony snaps. He pushes Steve’s hands off of his shoulders, using pressure points to weaken his hold. He hates being trapped. 

“But you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn’t you?”

Tony’s brain whirs, processing the information he has, filling in the gaps. He may not know everything, but he’s good at figuring things out. He’s a genius and he’s trained. He’s good.

“Makes sense,” he shrugs. “Fury knew the ship was dirty and needed a way in.”

“I’m not going to ask you again,” Steve growls, grabbing Tony’s shirt.

That is _it_.

Tony grabs Steve’s wrist with one hand and brings his other hand up to slap Steve’s face. Then he twists Steve’s arm, throwing a blow into his ribs for good measure as he locks Steve’s arm. 

“Back off Rogers,” he hisses. “Touch me again and I’ll break you.”

He releases Steve, who straightens, watching Tony warily the entire time. Tony takes a deep breath.

“I know who killed Fury,” he says, his voice becoming cold and clinical, detachment the only way he can get through the ensuing conversation. Steve’s expression drops in shock. “Most of the intelligence community doesn’t believe he exists. Those that do call him the Winter Soldier,” Tony plows on. “He’s credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years.”

“So he’s a ghost story?”

“Five years ago I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran. Somebody shot out my tears near of Odessa. Sent us straight over a cliff,” Tony tells him, even as the memories threaten to overwhelm him. “I managed to pull us out, but the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering the engineer, so he shot him.” Tony raises his shirt, showing off the puckered scar. That’s what comes from pulling a bullet out by yourself. He hates doctors. “Soviet slug. No rifling. Bye bye swimsuit season.”

“Yeah. I’m sure you look terrible on the beach,” Steve retorts. And Tony almost smiles, because Steve Rogers is an asshole to the nth degree and he loves it. 

He just hates the situation.

“Going after him is a dead end,” he shrugs. “I know. I’ve tried.”

And nearly killed himself doing it. Probably would’ve killed himself, if Clint hadn’t come after him yet again and, in his own words, _“dragged your sorry ass home again, Stark, goddamn you, I’m about to be a father again, I do not need this kind of stress in my life.”_

“Like you said, Cap, he’s a ghost story,” Tony finishes with a tight smile.

“Well, let’s find out what the ghost wants,” Steve replies, and Tony shakes his head, because didn’t he hear a word Tony said? But as much as he wants to run and hide and bury his head under a rock, he won’t.

And not because of Steve.

Which is how he finds himself hacking into the USB drive in an Apple store while Steve fobs off an over-eager Apple employee - Tony refuses to call them geniuses, because he is a genius, dammit, and he’s not just giving that title away to anyone. He won’t deny it though, he kinda loves pretending to be Steve’s fiancé. Not for any romantic or even sexual reasons - although, if he weren’t in a committed relationship with his own hand, Tony would tap that in a New York minute, because Steve is hot. But he’s also got a sort of thing with Natasha, which would make it doubly weird - but purely because he gets one hell of a kick out of feeling Steve’s muscles tense, hears the tiny hitch in his breath, the obvious discomfort. 

Then they’re on the escalator, and Rumlow is coming _right towards them_.

Tony turns back towards Steve.

“Don’t punch me,” he orders. Then he slides his hand into Steve’s hair and pulls him forward and kisses him. Steve’s breath stutters, but he kisses back. Once Rumlow is past, Tony releases Steve. Steve, who gapes at Tony with blown-wide pupils.

(It’s flattering. Tony is that good)

“Public displays of affection make people feel very uncomfortable,” Tony shrugs. “Feeling uncomfortable?”

“Not exactly the word I would use,” Steve mutters, and Tony snickers like the infant Coulson swore he is.

X

“Was that your first kiss since the forties?”

“What?” Steve asks. He glances at Tony, lounging in the passenger seat, as if they aren’t in a stolen car, on the run from SHIELD and the government. “Get your feet off the dash,” Steve scolds.

Tony rolls his eyes, but complies.

“I said, was that your first kiss since the forties?” Tony presses.

“I’m not answering that,” Steve retorts. 

“Hmm, that sounds pretty defensive Cap. It was, wasn’t it?” 

“Shut up Selesnick.”

“Down boy,” Tony smirks. 

Steve tried to focus on driving, rather than Tony and his irritating questions, and certainly not on that kiss, but apparently his brain has other ideas.

“Was it that bad?”

“Hmm?”

“The kiss,” he clarifies. “Was it that bad?”

“Seriously?”

Tony grins like all his Christmases have come at once and Steve wishes he could take it back. 

“Forget it,” he mutters. “I just- You seemed like the person to ask. What with… your experience.”

Tony shifts in his seat until he’s facing Steve properly. His eyes sparkle with amusement but he’s not laughing. Steve gives him that much, although he doesn’t hold out hope that it will last. 

“It wasn’t a bad kiss,” Tony replies. “It was a very good kiss. So who are you planning on kissing? I mean, you wouldn’t be so bothered if you weren’t planning on making the moves on someone. So who is it?”

 _Natasha_ , his brain supplies.

“No one,” Steve says.

“Uh huh,” Tony nods, as if he doesn’t believe Steve. Steve can’t blame him. Steve doesn’t believe Steve. “Sure thing, Cap.”

“Shut up.” 

Tony settles back in his seat.

“So where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?”

“Nazi Germany. And we’re borrowing.”

Tony snorts and shakes his head.

“I thought I was the one supposed to be good at twisting the truth.”

“Truth?” Steve echoes. He doesn’t want to sound mean, but Tony’s not good with the truth. And yeah, he’s still sore about Tony’s secret mission on the Lemurian Star. The fact that it turns out there’s a damn good reason behind Fury’s secrecy is beside the point. Steve likes to know he can trust people.

“Truth is a matter of circumstance,” Tony replies. “It’s not all things to all people all of the time. Neither am I.”

He’s serious now, as he stares out of the window, and Steve wonders how much of the real Tony is still in there. 

“That’s a tough way to live.”

“It’s a good way not to die though.”

“You know, it’s kinda hard to trust someone when you don’t know who that someone really is,” Steve points out. 

“Yeah…” Tony sighs. “Who do you want me to be?”

“How about a friend?”

Tony chuckles, low and throaty, and Steve can see how, in another life, he could’ve been attracted to Tony. Hell, he is attracted to Tony, but it goes no further than the physical. And will never go further, not with someone as closed off as Tony.

“There’s a chance you may be in the wrong business, Rogers.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that.

X

When Steve asks him, “What’s going on?” Tony’s brain promptly freezes up. Then he realises he’s actually frozen and forces himself to moves, rubbing his damp hair furiously with Sam Wilson’s towel. Because Steve Rogers, the Capsicle himself, has seen through Tony’s carefully crafted and maintained facade, straight into the heart of him. Okay, maybe Steve doesn’t know exactly why this is hitting so close to home, but he knows that it is and that’s enough for Tony to worry. No one can see through him, not even Clint and they’ve slept together. 

“When I first joined SHIELD, I thought I was going straight,” he replies eventually, dropping the towel onto his shoulders. “But I guess I just traded in the KGB for Hydra,” he snaps. The anger and bitterness rises his his throat. “I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but I guess I can’t tell the difference anymore.”

Steve nods.

“There’s a chance you might be the wrong business,” he says and Tony stares, recognising his own words from the day before.

This is not the Captain America of the comic books or the movies. This is Steve Rogers, and Steve Rogers is an asshole.

Tony likes him.

He laughs. 

“I owe you, Cap,” he shakes his head.

“It’s okay.”

Then, because Tony is clearly some kind of masochist, he asks, “If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life - be honest: would you trust me to do it?”

“I would now,” Steve replies. “And I’m always honest.”

Tony feels a wave of relief.

“Well, you seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing,” he says, getting them away from the heavy topics.

“Guess I just like to know who I’m fighting,” Steve shrugs.

Then Wilson sticks his head into the room to tell them he’s make breakfast.

“If you eat that sort of thing,” he adds. 

Tony likes him too. 

X

Natasha stops and stares at the figure in the doorway. The battered, beaten and bruised figure who, a little under a week ago, she watched footage of falling from a helicarrier into the Potomac. Then she closes the distance between them, her hands resting on Steve’s chest.

“You idiot,” she breathes. “What’s the point in having a team if you don’t call us in?”

“I’m fine,” Steve protests and Natasha levels him with a glare that shuts him right up. “I’m fine,” he repeats, softer, and his hand slides up her arm and onto her shoulder, until he’s cupping the back of her neck.

Natasha shivers. 

She hates being vulnerable, hates that someone else is seeing her vulnerability, but if it has to be anyone, she wants it to be Steve. He stares at her with such… longing and conviction that she starts to doubt he’ll ever move. And so she moves instead. She reaches up on her toes and covers his mouth with her own.

Steve takes a sharp breath in, and for just a second, she fears she’s misread the situation.

But then Steve’s palm is on her back and he pushes her into him and Natasha can’t help the moan that escapes. His hand migrates to her hip and he _grips_ it, and Natasha is left panting against Steve’s mouth. Then Steve’s mouth is on her neck with just the right amount of teeth, and she gaps, “Steve… _Steve_.”

He groans, and she feels it reverberate between their chests. Then his hips stutter forward. He’s hard, and _hello_ , Natasha wants, no, _needs_ to get him naked, like, yesterday. Steve pauses, as if he’s worried he’s done something wrong.

Natasha smirks. She winds her fist into his shirt as she turns, and uses it to drag him down the hall to her room. 

Later, they lie tangled in the sheets, chests still heaving, their skin shining with sweat. Natasha lets her head fall so she can drink in Steve in all his naked glory. Even though they’ve literally just been all over each other and in each other, she still can’t get enough. 

She doubts she’ll ever get enough.

“I think you’ve ruined me for other men, Rogers,” she smirks. 

Steve rolls over, his arms bracketing her shoulders as he looms over her. And for the first time in this position, she feels protected rather than intimidated. Steve hovers, inches above her mouth.

“Good,” he says, then closes the distance between them.

(It’s very good)

X

Handing over that file to Steve felt like losing a part of himself. Neither Steve - with a poorly hidden hickey on his neck - nor Wilson have any idea that the information in that file comes not from SHIELD or Hydra but from Tony himself, meticulously collected and maintained over the years in an effort to find the man behind the ghost story. 

And now, with the file gone, and Steve and Wilson ghost hunting, and Fury dead-not-dead, Tony doesn’t know where else to go. 

So he goes to visit the one woman he could always talk to. 

But for the first time, he finds he can’t. He leans against the cold marble and closes his eyes and wishes for the words. 

Even so, he knows someone approaches and he knows it’s Clint long before he opens his eyes and gives his best friend a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Shoulda known you’d be here,” Clint grunts. He sits on the grass opposite Tony. “You always go to her when you need to talk.”

“Talking’s not so easy today,” Tony shrugged.

“I never understood how you could talk to her anyway,” Clint continues as if Tony hadn’t spoken. “I mean, I used to ramble on at her, you know, and she’d just level me with one of those glares that made your insides shrivel up and die. You know the ones?”

"I do,” Tony smiles.

“See, how can you smile about that?”

“I miss her,” Tony shrugs.

“You’re the only one,” Clint shakes his head, but Tony knows it’s a lie. Clint misses their old supervisor too. No one else would’ve taken Tony on, no one else would’ve argued with Fury that he was worth the risk.

(No one else understood what he’d gone through, because she’d gone through it too)

“Laura’s pregnant,” Clint announces.

Tony doesn’t even blink at the sudden change of subject.

“Why is it, every time he turns up, your wife ends up pregnant again?”

“Don’t put those images in my head,” Clint grimaces. 

“You’re a baby factory,” Tony teases. “You better name this one after me, Barton.”

“Yes, because it is perfectly logical to name your kid after your ex.”

“I’m not your ex,” Tony says, closing his eyes and leaning against the headstone. “We slept together. Once. I blew your brains out. Literally and figuratively. You had to marry a woman because you knew you’d never have better sex with a man than with me. The end.”

“You wish,” Clint snorts. “Hey, why don’t you come to the farm for a while?”

His tone is casual, too casual, and Tony can see right through him. He smiles.

“I’m not going after him,” he replies. “I gave to file to Rogers.”

“You tell him?”

Tony shakes his head.

“What’s the point? Long time ago. Ancient history.”

“So where you gonna go? I mean, I went out for coffee and you destroyed SHIELD.”

“That was Steve,” Tony insists. “He just dragged me along for the ride.”

“Yeah right,” Clint retorts. “You might be an expert at all things sneaky, but you and I both know that your heart truly lies in making things go boom.”

Tony giggles.

(And if anyone ever accused him of doing so, he’d deny it voraciously and with a knife to their throat. Clint is only allowed to witness it because he’s seen Tony at his lowest, his weakest, his most vulnerable, with all his scars on display)

“I’m going to go home,” he decides.

“Russia?”

“No. New York.”

X

She misses Steve when he goes off with Wilson hunting for Barnes (not that she’ll ever admit it) so Natasha is pleased when Tony turns up on her doorstep with everything he owns. He doesn’t ask if he can move in, he just does. And she’s surprisingly okay with that. Bruce is already living there, which she loves, because he’s her science bro, and then Clint starts dropping in whenever he’s in the area, and then Thor moves in. They’re not as good as Steve - because she has sex with Steve, and other mushy feelings that she doesn’t want to talk or even think about - but they’re better than nothing. Pepper teases her that she’s having actual human feelings for once and Natasha throws her out. Not because Pepper’s wrong; on the contrary, she’s right and it’s embarrassing. 

But it’s Tony she sees most, and she’s surprisingly okay with this, considering when they met he lied to her, pretended to be someone he’s not, and was spying on her. She’s okay with it. Because she likes Tony. And because she’s not an idiot. 

She knows. 

Which is why they start spending more time together. When she’s not in the lab with Bruce or being harangued with paperwork by Pepper - the whole point of making Pepper CEO was so she didn’t have to deal with paperwork anymore, dammit - Natasha seeks out Tony. He’s surprisingly more than she expected.

She sees so many different faces to him in that time, and yet she has no idea which one is the real Tony. She wonders if he knows himself. Either way, he opens himself up to her more than anyone - with the possible exception of Clint, and she’s still not entirely sure that they aren’t fucking, so that’s cool - and she feels honoured in a way. 

Maybe he knows too?

Then one night, she finds him in the common room and starts ranting about her current project, which is very much Not Going Well thank you, and to her surprise Tony comes out with the perfect solution as though suggesting they get pizza. Natasha stares at him. 

Tony smiles, “I’ve always been good at science.”

It’s a smile of bitterness, a wry thing, full of anger and loss and disappointment.

And Natasha realises he does know. Or remembers. Whatever.

And she could ignore it, or make a joke. 

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she replies, “With our father, how could you not?”

Although his face remains impassive, Natasha can see the surprise in his eyes. Interesting. He thought she’d refuse to acknowledge the truth. She feels quite proud that she’s managed to surprise the super spy.  

Then he smiles softly. He gets up from the sofa, crossing to her side. Cupping the back of her head with one hand, he kisses her temple oh-so gently.

“I always wanted a sister,” he murmured, before disappearing. 

Natasha smiles.

She doesn’t see Tony for a few days, but she understands. The same way she understands why Tony kept Steve at a distance when they all first met. It must burn, knowing that Howard spent decades and millions of dollars searching for a man he could barely call a friend, yet gave up on his only son just like that. It burns her, makes her even more furious with Howard than she already is. 

But.

But if Howard had found Tony, if he’d brought him home, would he ever have adopted her? 

It’s the question that never strays too far from her mind, the nagging doubt that stopped her from saying anything until then. With Tony, Howard didn’t need her. She was there purely to be his heir, his greatest achievement: dragging a gutter orphan up to run one of the biggest companies in America. With Tony, there was no need for that. And that led to all sorts of uncomfortable questions of where she would be now. _Who_ she would be now. Almost certainly, she wouldn’t be with Steve, and that hurts where her arc reactor used to be. 

But similarly, she wouldn’t have gone through those three months of hell. 

Would it have been Tony in that cave? Would it be Tony in an Iron Man suit instead?

It’s an uncomfortable thought, so she banishes them and then Tony reappears, as though he knew she’d made her peace with it. From then on, there’s a softness between them, a protective air that surrounds them, that the others are aware of, even if they don’t understand. 

They’ll tell them. In time.

Just not yet.

X

Electricity thrums in his veins as he waits. 

Natasha received a call from Steve two days ago, telling her they’d be home today.

Two left but three return.

They found him. 

Natasha told him, whether because they’ve claimed each other as the siblings they should’ve been, or because she knows more than she lets on, he doesn’t know. And for once, Tony doesn’t care. All he cares about if that they’re coming home. 

“Hey Cap,” he calls, casual as his training takes over, approaching the two figures walking in the other direction. “Wilson hit the hay already?”

Steve shakes his head. 

“Went to see Nat with his wings.”

“Letting him steal your girl?” Tony teases.

Steve rolls his eyes.

“Tony, this is Bucky,” he says, clasping a hand on a metal shoulder. 

Finally, finally, Tony turns to the other man and allows himself to drink him in for the first time since he was dragged away and thrown in that chair, wiping Tony from his memory.

He looks the same.

No, that’s not quite true. 

He hasn’t aged, not really, although there are faint lines around his eyes now. Tony suspects they’re less to do with age, and more a result of all the time spent frowning. 

(He hopes he can add a few from laughter now)

Somehow he seems lighter and heavier all at once, but there’s definitely more life in his eyes than Tony has ever seen before, as a tiny crease appears between his eyebrows.

“ _Hello Yasha_ ,” he says, slipping back into the choppy Russian of his youth, and winks as Yasha’s eyes widen in recognition. Tony merely smiles and slips past the two men. 

That night, Tony lies awake and waits. He’s no longer a teenager, no longer handcuffs himself to the bed, but he’s still waiting for the same man. 

He thinks he’ll always wait for him. 

Sure enough, just before midnight, he hears the door of his apartment open and close, near-silent feet padding down the corridor to his bedroom. Tony smiles in the dark. The bedroom door opens, then the mattress dips from a knee.

“Took you long enough,” Tony teases.

Yasha stares down at him in wonderment.

“Anto,” he murmurs.

Tony sits up, slides his hand into Yasha’s hair and kisses him for the first time in twenty years.

“Welcome home,” he whispers.

X

Natasha’s laughing at him, and Steve’s not quite sure why.

“What?” he asks. But she doesn’t reply, just continues to laugh on the other side of the bed - _their_ bed, he thinks with a thrill. “What?”

He rolls over until he’s on top of her, pinning her in place, and feels a thrill of pride that he’s allowed to do this to her. That Natasha trusts him enough to let him into her life, into her bed, and into her body.

“Why are you laughing at me?” he asks.

“Because you’re adorable,” she replies, and reaches up to kiss the tip of his nose.

Steve frowns.

“I don’t understand. All I said was, don’t you think it’s weird, what happened when I introduced Tony to Bucky?”

“You didn’t introduce them,” Natasha informs him. “They’ve known each other for years. They’re in love you idiot,” she grins, winding her arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss him thoroughly. 

“How do you know this?” Steve asks when they part. 

“Because he’s my brother. Tony is Howard’s son.”

Steve stares at her.

“Shit.”

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who didn't catch the reference, Tony and Clint's old supervisor is Dottie Underwood from Agent Carter, who was trained in the precursor to the Black Widow programme. It's my headcanon that when Peggy started SHIELD, she recruited Dottie and Dottie trained Clint, which is why he took Natasha (or in this case Tony) in instead of killing her as he was supposed to.
> 
> Edited 27/4/19: I've had a couple of people asking for more, and I said that I might do an Infinity/Endgame piece after Endgame came out. Well, Endgame is out, and the whole way through, all I could think about was how fucking angsty it would be in this verse. So it's going to happen, but I need to see Endgame again first. You've been warned. Subscribe to the series if you want to know when it appears.
> 
> Edited 13/06/19: Sequel is up now!
> 
> Find me rambling on tumblr here: [weethreequarter](https://weethreequarter.tumblr.com)  
> 


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